


It's Been A Long Time

by Gerec



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Call Me By Your Name AU, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: It's been fifteen years since Erik last saw Charles Xavier, when they fell in love over the course of one unforgettable summer. Since then their lives have gone in very different directions, though their short love affair left an indelible mark that still ties them together.A 'Call Me By Your Name' inspired au.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 45
Kudos: 149





	1. Erik - Now

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the novel, specifically the time jump to their first reunion fifteen years after their summer romance.

When Erik woke up that morning he had no idea what the day would bring; that the colorless routine of his everyday life would be utterly upended by an unexpected visitor from his past.

“Professor Lehnsherr? Might I have a word with you?”

“If you have questions about today’s lecture please visit me during office hours,” he answered, slipping his notes into his laptop bag and zipping it closed. “It’s the middle of the semester; you should know by now that I don’t…” The words died in his throat as he finally turned to face the speaker, who wore an amused smile at his brusque reply. “You look…I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man who stood before him was gorgeous, with a ginger tinged beard and wavy dark hair, sporting a worn leather jacket that covered a deceptively muscular frame. But it was the sky blue eyes that caught his attention, reminding him of a long ago summer that still made his heart ache.

“Erik,” the man said, and he let out an involuntary gasp, as recognition and shock hit him simultaneously, making his head spin. “It’s me. Charles.”

“Charles!” His limbs were moving without any input from his brain, folding Charles into his arms and hugging him tight. “Charles, I didn’t… I can’t believe it’s really you! How are you? What are you doing here?”

Charles grinned, and Erik mentally kicked himself for not recognizing him instantly, though it had been…fourteen, no fifteen years since they’d seen each other last. But there was no mistaking the smile that lit up Charles’ face, or the way his eyes twinkled, as smugly pleased as he’d always been whenever he got a reaction of any kind from Erik. Bracing himself for a sarcastic quip about his age, or at least feigned admonition for failing to recognize him, Erik was surprised when Charles merely shook his head and chuckled, and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Perhaps he realized that he struck a rather different figure now than the seventeen year old boy that Erik had known so well, the soft angles and gangly awkwardness lost to time and a blossoming into manhood.

“The university invited me to discuss the idea of doing a series of guest lectures,” Charles said, and Erik wondered how he appeared to his former lover; whether he had aged well beyond the idealized perfection of Charles’ remembrance. Though he was naturally lean, and kept up a decent running regime, Erik was conscious of the lines on his brow and the first hint of white that had snuck into his hair. “I knew that you were a professor here and I thought I would drop by and say a quick hello. For old time’s sake.”

The words were breezy and the tone light, and Erik would have taken Charles at his word if he wasn’t still so damnably easy to read. It was in the way Charles stood, his posture ramrod straight, and the way his hands clenched and unclenched inside his pockets, bracing himself for rejection even after years of being the genius darling of the scientific community. Whatever the reason, he was afraid of Erik’s reaction, as though he could be anything but elated that someone like Charles Xavier – beautiful, brilliant, and a beacon of light drawing others into their orbit – remembered him. And wanted to see him.

Erik smiled, and Charles’ shoulders loosened in response, which only reinforced the veracity of his observation. “I’m glad you did. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Charles.”

“It’s good to see you too, Erik,” was the answer, as Charles’ smile lost the last of its disquiet, his whole demeanor warming at Erik’s words. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away, pretending to make a last check of the classroom. “Shall we continue this in my office? The least I can do is offer you a weak cup of tea.”

Charles laughed, and for a brief moment, they were _there_ again, in a villa in Italy, with all of the years of their lives still ahead and full of possibility. His heart lurched painfully even as he plastered a bemused smirk on his face, and did not falter when Charles waved his arm and said teasingly, “After you, Professor.”


	2. Charles - Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months after things end, Charles gets a call from Erik on New Year's Eve.

The call came fifteen minutes before midnight, ringing loudly in the cavernous quiet of their Westchester residence, the four of them huddled under blankets in front of the TV. Raven made a mad dash for the phone and picked up on the second ring, making their parents laugh as they followed her, at an eager, though more sedately pace. 

“Erik! I knew it was you!”

His stomach clenched, even though the call was expected and all he could think about for the past week. It seemed strange to Charles, that he would get to hear Erik’s voice again, an agonizing four months apart after spending nearly seven weeks in each other’s company. Had Erik forgotten him already, now that he was back home in California, finishing his doctorate? Did he dream about Charles still, the way Charles still ached for him every moment of every day?

“—that’s wonderful Erik! Please give our love to your mother and sister. And we would love to have you visit again anytime! I’m sure that we could—”

He let his father’s voice wash over him, and laughed inwardly at the sight of his family, all hovering over the speaker phone and hanging onto Erik’s every word. Charles knew that Raven saw him as a cooler, even older big brother, while Brian appreciated Erik’s intelligence and his genuine interest in other academic areas, even in subjects well outside his purview. But it was Sharon that had surprised them all, during Erik’s six week stay; finding a kindred spirit in their young guest, the two sharing both the love of art history as well as a dry wit and no-nonsense mien.

“—Charles there? Can I speak to him?”

Ignoring Raven’s tittering, and the compassion he never wanted to see on his parents’ faces, Charles headed into the study, and picked up the extension. He took a deep breath as the others said their goodbyes, cradling the phone against his ear as he settled in front of the fireplace.

“Hi Erik.”

_“Charles. Hi.”_

They heard the other line disconnect, though neither spoke for long moments, letting their silence permeate the distance that lay between them. There was so much he wanted to ask and so much he wanted to _say_ , his heart full to bursting with every new adventure and every mundane task he longed to share. Instead, he closed his eyes and imagined Erik’s face, and the way he held Charles tightly in his arms before getting on the train.

“How’s Stanford?”

 _“Busy, but I’m finally getting close to finishing my manuscript,”_ Erik said, and he sounded so _normal_ , and as detached as he did when they first met, only four months ago on a hot July day. _“Mama and Ruth send their love. How was your first semester at Oxford? Have you wowed all the professors yet with that big brain of yours?”_

“It’s…,” scary, he wanted to say, being seventeen and so far from home, with Raven and his parents still living in New York. It was wonderful and awful and so unbearably lonely, living the life he’d always been so certain that he wanted, until Erik Lehnsherr came along and changed everything.

“…fine. I’ve got mostly first year science classes, and they’re all pretty easy. I have a roommate that’s nice. Quiet, but keeps things neat. It’s not that interesting really.”

 _“That’s good. I’m glad you’re settling in,”_ Erik said, and then he added, _“I have some news.”_

Charles’ stomach plummeted to the soles of his feet, and he had to force himself not to slam the phone down, so he didn’t have to listen to what Erik had to say. He’d heard that tone before, more than once during the course of the summer; that clipped, efficient delivery gentled to cushion the blow.

_“This can’t happen, Charles.”_

_“You’ll regret this, when you’re older.”_

_“Magda and I are getting married,”_ he continued, as Charles’ clenched the handset until his knuckles turned white, _“in the spring. Before…before the baby comes.”_

“Getting…” He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “A baby.”

 _“Yeah.”_ Erik sounded sad, and his voice broke a little at his next words. _“I’m sorry, Charles. I know it’s not what you expected to hear. You know Magda and I were on and off for years, and when I got back from Italy—"_

“You got back together,” Charles finished, proud that he could answer without breaking down, or letting Erik know just how much he wanted to scream until he passed out. “A wedding, and a baby. Congratulations…I’m happy for you.”

He heard Raven then through the study wall, starting the countdown to New Year’s. His parents wouldn’t disturb him he knew, but suddenly, he _needed_ to get off the call and away from Erik’s voice, away from the reality of _Erik_ with a life and a family that didn’t include him.

“I should go,” he whispered, because he couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ lose it – over something they had both agreed was long over. “It’s New Year’s. My parents are waiting.”

_“Of course.”_

“Bye, Erik.”

 _“Charles wait, I just want to say that I…that…”_ He waited, even as each second became more excruciating than the next before Erik finally added, _“Happy New Year.”_

He let out a long sigh. “Happy New Year, Erik. Goodbye.”

And then he hung up the phone, and let the tears fall freely down his face.


	3. Erik - Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles catch up and there's an invitation to dinner.

They spoke little during the short walk to his office, with Erik’s feet leading them deftly as his head came to grips with Charles’ sudden presence again in his life. How many times had he imagined their reunion, in the dark of night as he lay beside his sleeping wife? Dreaming of red lips and warm skin and the eyes of an old soul in a young man’s body?

All these years later and Erik wondered if Charles had ever forgiven him; for the things he did and the things he didn’t do after their parting in Bergamo. Or perhaps Charles had long forgotten what Erik had tried to forget, chalking their short if passionate time together as no more than a learning experience. He wanted to ask so many things; about Charles’ life yes, but more importantly – _selfishly_ – if Erik still held a small place in his heart.

He ushered Charles into his office and set to making tea, pouring more water into the electric kettle before flipping the switch. Erik watched as Charles took in his surroundings, eyes skimming over the worn couch and the wall of books that were just as likely to be found on his own mother’s shelves. His expression yielded nothing except perhaps a detached curiosity, that is until his eyes glimpsed the framed articles that Erik had hanging on one of his office walls.

“These are about me,” he said, surprise and pleasure suffusing his words. “I didn’t realize you kept track of my career.”

Erik scoffed, and then couldn’t hold back the smile at the confusion written across Charles’ face. “You’re the youngest geneticist to ever get nominated for a Nobel Prize, Charles. The work you’re doing in gene mutation and gene therapy is changing the way we’re dealing with all types of cancers.” He took a moment to pour the tea and added milk and sugar, before he handed the mug over and added, “I always knew you would change the world.”

A smile – a true one, that lit him up from the inside out – bloomed across Charles’ face, and Erik had to turn away, unable to handle the way Charles still glowed so adoringly under his praise.

Then, as quickly as it came the smile was gone, as Charles’ eyes drifted lower, to the framed pictures of his family sitting on his desk.

“Your kids,” he said, neither a statement or a question as he picked one up and stared intently at it, before giving Erik a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They’re so big.”

“They are,” he answered, coming to stand next to Charles, though he kept a careful distance, not wanting to assume familiarity after so many years. “Pietro and Wanda are fourteen and Lorna’s eleven.”

“Fourteen.” Charles took a slow sip of his tea, and handed the frame back to Erik. “Wanda looks a lot like you.”

He snorted. “Not just in looks. She has my temperament too, or so I’ve been told.”

Charles nodded absently, though he didn’t look over at Erik, his gaze drifting aimlessly around the room. “By your wife.”

“Yes,” he said, wishing it wasn’t true, or that he could take it all back; anything to make Charles smile again, instead of that politely distant look he was wearing, making Erik’s heart break. “Though Wanda would have no problem telling you otherwise. In fact I’m sure she lives to tell us we’re wrong. About everything.”

That made Charles laugh. “You mean, just like you?”

“Yes,” and then, because Charles was still important to him, he wanted his children to know him too, and love him. “Come have dinner at my house tonight. Meet Magda and the kids.”

He half expected an incredulous laugh, but Charles merely shook his head and sighed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Erik. Besides, I have an early meeting in the morning.”

“Please come. I promise we won’t keep you too late.”

Charles was still shaking his head. “They don’t even know who I am.”

“They do. I’ve told the kids all about you. Lorna wants to be a scientist too.”

“That’s sweet,” he answered with a slight quirk to his lips, and then his expression sobered as he met Erik’s gaze. “Did you tell your wife all about me too?”


	4. Charles - Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik spend a last night together in Bergamo, before Erik heads home to California.

He felt Erik’s eyes on him when he woke next, still bared and limbs intertwined on the lumpy hotel bed. Blankets were unnecessary in the balmy August heat, even late into the night – or rather in the early hour before dawn, judging from the very first streak of light coming in through the open window.

“Did you sleep at all?” Charles asked, rolling instinctively towards the body beside him, tucking himself against Erik’s chest. He pressed a kiss to the hollow of Erik’s throat, relaxing into those long lean arms, relishing the closeness as they lay together in the semi darkness of pre-morning.

Erik hummed and pulled him in tight, brushing a half kiss, half sigh against his forehead. “Couldn’t.”

“The heat?”

“No.”

It hadn’t been easy, getting Erik to share his thoughts and feelings; certainly not at the beginning when he had seemed so remote, exuding an air of general disinterest in the teenaged son of his hosts for the summer. Their conversations had been stilted and formal at first, and mostly at Charles’ instigation, but his dogged pursuit paid off as Erik slowly warmed to his presence. 

Though it did take longer, for Charles to understand Erik’s seeming reticence; how his attention and interest would inexplicably – and frustratingly – run hot and cold. It wasn’t until Charles broke through that cool exterior to find the fire within, that everything about Erik Lehnsherr finally made sense.

 _“Language is imprecise, even at its most eloquent and beautiful,”_ Erik said once, when the two were lounging beside the villa’s pool, drinking in the heat of the Italian sun. _“I have the mind of a scholar, Charles, not the heart of a poet, like you.”_

He shifted, propping himself up onto his side so he could see Erik’s face. The angles of his body were even more pronounced this way, half hidden in shadow, and Charles longed to immortalize him on canvas, capturing the rough beauty that lay beneath his fingertips.

“Why not?”

There was no answer; only the feel of Erik’s hands as they slid down his flank, mapping Charles’ skin as they shared a soft, languid kiss. It made him punch drunk, being in Erik’s arms and touching him, as though time held no meaning in the warm cocoon of their bed. And yet time meant everything, for those with so little of it to spare, as their last night would soon become their last morning together.

“I didn’t want to miss a single minute I had left with you,” Erik murmured, after a long enough silence that made Charles think he would never get an answer. “I wanted to memorize your face, you in my arms; this one perfect moment in time so I’d never forget.”

He hadn’t known it was possible, for words to bring as much joy as they brought pain; to sooth and to wound with equal parts elation and sorrow. It made Charles ache, the thought of letting Erik go; that in a few short hours he would get on a train to the airport and make his way home.

Without Charles, and to a place he wasn’t meant to follow.

 _Don’t go_ , and _please don’t leave me_ were on the tip of his tongue; impossible, childish words that he wouldn’t burden Erik with and risk marring their stolen peace. Instead, he rolled on top of Erik and kissed him, speaking what he couldn’t say with words, pressing their bodies together in the feign hope of leaving a lasting, indelible mark in place.

“Don’t forget me,” Charles pleaded, as he sank down and arched his back, taking Erik in deep, making them both gasp aloud as long fingers tugged at his hips with bruising force. He felt raw, and splayed open with nowhere to hide, a bone-achingly deep longing that threatened to drown them in its wake. Instead, Charles rocked against Erik, taking what he craved – _needed_ , more desperately than air –

“I couldn’t,” Erik said much later, the room glowing with the early morning light, and Charles plastered against his chest, insides simultaneously filled and drained empty, “we’ll always have this, Charles. Always.”

 _It was enough_ , Charles thought, as they watched the sun rise together, wrapped in each other’s arms. It was enough, because they’d never made any promises to be broken, or set expectations they wouldn’t meet; two weeks and three days were hardly enough time to really _know_ each other, let alone fall hopelessly in love…

 _It was enough_ , Charles thought. _It had to be._


	5. Erik - Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles invites Erik for a drink.

It was mostly Charles that did the talking as they made their way to the parking lot, asking Erik questions about his classes and his tenure at Stanford, and inquiring after the health of his parents and his sister Ruth. Though they had spoken at length about his family, Charles never had the opportunity to meet them in person, still away at Oxford during the Lehnsherrs’ visit almost eleven years ago. It had been the one and only time Erik had returned to the villa, and to Italy, since he and Charles had parted ways in Bergamo.

At the time, Erik had thought he was happy; with a professorship at his alma mater and married with three year old twins. And he thought he was happy for Charles too, with the news Raven shared about her brother’s life at Oxford, and the relationship that had blossomed between him and a fellow geneticist named Moira. It was gratifying to know that Charles had grown and moved on so successfully, living and loving a full life of his own.

Erik had always known that Charles was meant for great things; things that by circumstance and a disparate upbringing Erik could never give him. Charles’ life consisted of scientific breakthroughs and travel that took him all over the world; Erik’s was office hours and coaching the twins’ soccer team. Though their time together had been painfully short, Erik was grateful for it nonetheless, for in those two weeks and three days they had it all; each other, the world, and a love that was _everything_.

But the trip to Crema did not lay the ghost of their relationship to rest, and Erik found himself thinking more and more about Charles in the weeks and months that followed. Yes, he’d taken Magda and the children to the village and some of the places he’d visited with Charles, and yes they’d stayed at the villa with the Xaviers, eating the same food and swimming in the same plunge pool. But it was a wholly different experience this time around, somehow _lacking_ in a way that Erik didn’t understand and couldn’t quite decipher.

Then one night Magda had said, “I can understand why you like it there so much, with the Xaviers. Their place is so beautiful, like stepping back in time or into another world. And you…you’re like a different person there. A different Erik, from another life.”

It had shocked him, the realization that had come from Magda’s words, as the reasoning behind his own actions suddenly became clear. The Erik that had gone back had not been the same man that had left, and his own subconscious mind had known the distinction, avoiding all things that were intrinsically tied to _Charles_ in his memories. He had refused the Xaviers’ offer to take Charles’ old room, where he had stayed as a guest that summer, because sleeping there with his wife – instead of Charles – would have been inherently _wrong_. And he hadn’t taken the kids to visit the reserve near Capralba, to Charles’ favorite hiding place, where he went to read and to be alone and had revealed to no one but Erik for all the years the Xaviers had summered in Italy. He kept Charles apart because Charles was _his_ and his alone; because Erik had never been happier and more truly himself than he was that summer, neither _before_ nor _after._

“Well, this is me.”

Charles had stopped next to his rental car, and was now standing there with a slight smile, waiting patiently no doubt, for some kind of response.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to change your mind, and come for dinner?” Erik asked, desperate for it not to end; suddenly sure that letting him go would be a mistake, and that Charles would slip away like a beautiful dream and Erik wouldn’t see him again for another fifteen years.

Or maybe ever.

It was unthinkable, and Erik didn’t know what to do or say to make him stay.

“Not dinner no,” Charles answered, making Erik’s heart sink painfully in his chest before he added, “but come have a drink with me. My hotel’s not far.”

“Your hotel…” He hesitated, because he so desperately wanted to say _yes_ , to whatever it was that Charles was offering, even knowing what kind of man that made him. Even knowing what it would do to his perfectly ordered life. “A drink?”  
  
Charles laughed, though his eyes glittered with obvious challenge. “Just a drink, Erik. Not a fuck.”

Was it disappointment that he saw on Charles’ face? For just a split second, before he let Erik off the hook? Or was Erik projecting hidden meaning when there was none, and he was the only one so shaken and affected by their reunion?

He smiled, and shook his head. “Of course, Charles. Let’s go get that drink.”


	6. Charles - Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first kiss.

“I love this, Erik.”

They lay side by side on the grassy berm, the sun on their faces, the afternoon heat a soothing balm on the chill that lingered on their bared feet. Wading into the stream was always bracing, even on the hottest days of summer, though Charles made a little ritual of it every time, on the dozens of visits he’d made to the reserve since he was thirteen.

He couldn’t say that it was a conscious decision, bringing Erik _here_ , to this place where Charles came to read and sketch and to dream about the future. The reserve was close enough to access by bike but far enough to give him privacy, and freedom from his own chosen role as perfect son and doting older brother. Perhaps it had been there from the start, his desire to know Erik, and to be known by him; to throw himself wide open – warts and all – and truly be _seen_.

“What?”

Erik’s voice was a delicious rumble, sending a shiver of lust straight down his spine. He could hear it so clearly now, the curiosity, the _desire_ , that he’d so often mistaken for disinterest; saw through the walls Erik built around himself to try and keep Charles from discovering his secret.

Charles kept his eyes closed, and smiled. “Everything.”

He heard Erik shift beside him, moving closer, his presence tangible and calling out to every one of his senses. “You mean us. Here. Together.”

The tension between them had always been palpable, at times even antagonistic, drawing them into an ever narrowing orbit until their feelings demanded acknowledgement. And now that they had been voiced aloud, it simmered with every glance and every touch, making Charles’ skin prickle with anticipation. 

It may not be now, or today, or even tomorrow, he knew, but Erik’s iron will couldn’t hold him at arms’ length forever.

And then - as though responding to his unspoken thought - Erik was touching him, his thumb gliding tentative and feather-light against Charles’ bottom lip. It was electrifying, when the thumb became long fingers tracing the contours of his mouth, mapping the shape and texture of it with a gentle, almost worshipful reverence. Charles shuddered, and licked at the fingers with relish, afraid to open his eyes and risk breaking the connection he’d been craving since the first day they met. He wanted badly for Erik to kiss him, and to kiss Erik in turn; for the two of them to _give in_ to what had been building ever so slowly over meals and chess games and hours of conversation…

Still, it surprised Charles when it happened, and he moaned as Erik pressed their mouths together, pulling him into a kiss that was sweet and almost tender. It was perfect, even better than he could have imagined; Erik’s hands on him, holding him close, his tongue drawing needy gasps from an utterly elated Charles. He knew it was a moment to be crystallized and preserved forever in memory; every second to be replayed and dissected in some unknown future and think – _if all the days of my life could be like this._

But then Erik abruptly pulled away, expression pained as though it physically hurt him, though his hand was still cupping Charles’ face. He sighed. “This can’t happen, Charles.”

He was prepared for it; for Erik to give in and then immediately pull back, letting his misgivings rule over his desire to take what Charles offered freely with enthusiasm. Though now that he knew Erik wanted him too, he wouldn’t be put off quite so easily; he shoved Erik onto his back and rolled on top of him, and sealed their mouths together in a heady, soul-searing kiss.

Erik growled and immediately took over, biting his lip and tugging him close, as though he were afraid that Charles would slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. He could feel the undercurrent of something rougher, almost possessive in the way Erik kissed, held back by the thinnest thread of self-control that Charles longed desperately to give way.

And then Erik stopped again, still panting slightly for breath, and gently but firmly nudged Charles off his lap.

“No, please. I can’t.”

Charles groaned, and flopped onto his back with an exasperated sigh. “Why? I want this. _You_ want this. I don’t see the problem.”

“You’re seventeen—”

“Old enough to know what I want.”

“—and I’m twenty four. You’ve never been with a man. I’m a guest of your parents and working for your Mom. Shall I go on?”

He tried, rather unsuccessfully, not to roll at eyes. “They’re all excuses and you know it.”

Erik muttered something under his breath and laughed. “Okay maybe they are. But it doesn’t make them untrue. We haven’t done anything yet to be ashamed of, or regret. I don’t want to drag us both into something that...” He hesitated, and then reached over and squeezed Charles’ hand. “I want to be good.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Charles said, “and there’s nothing we could do that I’d ever regret. But I can wait until you’re ready. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Erik grinned. “Would you wait forever, Charles? Forever is a long time when you’re only seventeen.”

It seemed ridiculous even to Charles, that he should feel this much, this quickly, for someone he’d met only a few weeks ago. And yet he was certain that it would never change; that this brilliant, complicated man would have a place in his heart, now and always.

Charles smiled, and squeezed Erik’s hand. “I can wait.”


	7. Erik - Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik gets unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have read the novel, you’ll notice I’ve gone wildly off script here, as what happens here is not what happened in the book. But it felt more true to character for these two, so there you have it.

“I’m getting married.”

Charles wasn’t looking at him, gaze fixed on the twinkling lights that encircled the outdoor patio where they sat, side by side overlooking the water. Most of the other patrons had ducked inside when it started drizzling twenty minutes ago, but it was warm enough – and sheltered enough – that they chose to stay and enjoy the relative peace of the mild spring evening. It was just as well that they were virtually alone here, Erik thought; at least it was only Charles who saw him choking on a mouthful of beer, wheezing unattractively as he tried not to spew it all over himself and the table.

“Sorry.” Charles grimaced and patted his back, and waited patiently for Erik’s eyes and nose to stop stinging. He could feel the warmth of Charles’ hand through his suit jacket, and took comfort from the feel of his fingers splayed across his shoulder blades. How long had it been since Charles had touched him like this? And how long had Erik been imagining such a moment, Charles’ beautiful, gentle hands on him again in an achingly familiar, comforting way?

“It’s alright. I’m alright.” He took a deep breath, and wiped a bit of the spilled beer, pooling under his bottle. “You’re getting married. Congratulations, Charles.”

Charles smiled, lips soft and eyes brittle, his gaze turning once more from Erik to the dying twilight. “Thank you. We’ve been…it’s time.”

“You sound…” _Indifferent. Detached. Not sad but not really happy_ , Erik thought, trying not to be obvious with the way he was cataloguing Charles’ profile with every greedy glance from the corner of his eye. He thought other things too – ugly, uncharitable thoughts he had no right thinking – about Charles’ seeming lack of passion and excitement over such a life changing event. It made Erik angry, to think that Charles was settling for a lover who didn’t make him ecstatically happy; someone who understood how uniquely special and _good_ he was, and treated him accordingly.

Instead, he settled for something more innocuous. “…ready. Have you set a date?”

“No.” Charles laughed, and took a long swig of his beer. “He hasn’t asked me yet. But he’s been hinting for ages. And I know he has a ring. So it’ll be soon, maybe as soon as I get back.”

“Is that…” Perhaps he was deluding himself to even think such a thing, but— “Is that why you’re here, Charles?”

He felt ridiculous the moment the words came out of his mouth; why would _Erik_ have any role to play in his life after all these years, or factor into any decision he had to make about his future? Just because Erik couldn’t let go of that long ago summer, didn’t mean Charles felt the same way.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Charles said, hand clutched tightly around his beer bottle, looking a little lost and frustrated. Then he turned on his stool, until his whole body was facing in Erik’s direction and scowled. “Actually that’s not true. I came because I thought if I saw you again I would know how I really feel about him. What my answer would be when he asked me to marry him. That I would _see_ you and maybe realise that I’m just hanging on to a version of you that doesn’t exist. Maybe _never_ existed, except in my own memories. That you don’t matter to me anymore, the way you did then, and I should let myself be happy, with someone who actually loves me.”

There were things Erik could have said then as a kindness to them both; polite words about the rashness of youth and the nature of their relationship, brief and undefined. It would keep the past where it belonged and give Charles what he needed – reason and justification both to start a new life without the specter of ‘what if’ lingering in the shadows.

Instead—

“I loved you,” he said, truth he could never acknowledge then, afraid of what it might mean to Charles’ future, and the life Erik had mapped out for himself. “I loved you, and I’ve never stopped. There are days when I think I should have stayed, or what might have happened if Magda hadn’t gotten pregnant with the twins. I think about your smile, and the colour of your eyes, and how much I miss the sound of your voice. I hate myself for hurting you, and I hate that I let you disappear from my life. But Charles…” He stopped, and took a deep breath before he continued, “None of that changes the fact that I’m married, and I have three children. What happened can’t be changed, even if we wanted it to.”

Charles smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “But you don’t really want to change it, do you? No matter how you feel, or what scenario you might let yourself imagine. You love them, your family, and you wouldn’t want to lose them.”

He didn’t know if Charles meant then, or now, though Erik supposed it didn’t matter; he couldn’t conceive of a life where his children – and Magda – wasn’t a part of it. And Charles…

Charles deserved better than he had to give.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Charles said, grimacing as he finished the last of his beer. Then he shook his head and laughed, and patted Erik’s hand. “I suppose it’s good that I didn’t try to seduce you, hm? I did think about it, you know. I thought perhaps fucking you again might get you out of my system for good.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said, gripping Charles’ hand when he tried to pull away, misunderstanding Erik’s meaning. “Because I would have said _yes_ , and taken you to bed, and what kind of man would that make me?”

“The same kind of man that would sleep with someone’s husband, I guess.” Charles smiled again, softer and more genuine this time as he squeezed Erik’s hand. “Another beer? And then we should probably call it a night.”

“Yes,” Erik agreed, ignoring the disappointment that washed over him, wondering when he had become such a coward, and a fraud. “One more for the road.”

* * *

He could feel Charles watching from the bed, as he bent down to gather the clothes scattered all over the hotel room floor. His cell had slipped out onto the carpet, and Erik put it back into his suit jacket pocket, pretending not to see the four unanswered calls that lit up the screen.

Once he was dressed again, Charles said, “You should go.”

“Charles, I—”

“No, please don’t.” Silence, and then a plea, barely a whisper. “Just…go home.”

Erik left.


	8. Charles - One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles visits the past and gets an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the previous chapter, this deviates from the ending of the novel (which is much more open-ended). I appreciate everyone who has followed along with me; thanks for reading!

It’s been a long time since Charles’ last visit.

The house was much the same as it had always been, doors creaky and windowsills warped from the heat and humidity of the Italian summer. The grounds too had not seen any change since he was a boy, the orchard lush and green and obviously loved, his parents still spending enough time here to ensure that the property was lived in and well maintained.

In the years since he left for Oxford Charles had visited less than a handful of times, though Raven still spent part of the summer here every year, and brought her husband and son along now to enjoy the town’s rustic charms. Without fail she would ask Charles to join them on holiday, so the entire family could reunite and revisit those idyllic days, and he would pretend to consider it, to promise to fit it into the crazy schedule that he maintained. And inevitably something important would come up and take Charles to another part of the world, allowing him to keep his distance and the memories at bay - of one perfect summer and a love that should have long been forgotten.

It got easier as time passed and his life took him further and further away; he could even look back and see it for what it was - joy made all the more precious for having been found and then lost. It was something that could be cherished and missed, he told himself, but never truly remade.

But then he’d made that mistake more than a year ago, seeking _him_ out in a vain effort to recapture the magic they once shared, wanting – closure? A second chance? He still had no idea what he’d hoped to accomplish from his visit. And Erik...

There had been others in Charles' life, since he fell in love with Erik Lehnsherr; longer, deeper, more meaningful relationships with both men and women in these past sixteen years. He had known their hearts, and their dreams, and lived for months and sometimes years by their side. Why then did Erik still matter to him, beyond being his first love? And did Charles simply want him so much because the man was married with a family and well beyond his reach?

Whatever the answer was it didn't reflect well on Charles and the man he'd become, unwilling - or unable - to give himself fully to another, and capable of sleeping with a married man without any regret or shame.

He thought of Erik's words to him that night, and how it had ripped his chest wide, to hear what had never been spoken between them in the halcyon days of that beautiful summer. _'I loved you,'_ he'd said, as though it was obvious, and Charles should have _known_ , like it didn't matter because it had always been and would always be, for the rest of his life. It was impossible not to give in to temptation after that, and _take_ what Erik so plainly and whole-heartedly offered…

At least he had the decency to let the man go afterwards, without tears or recrimination, free to forget their night together and return to his happy life. It was the least he could do for Erik and for himself; somehow it was easier to let him go when Charles had confirmation of his feelings, and that Erik had loved him, and had never forgotten him.

It taught him too that he couldn’t marry anyone else, not until he’d truly mourned what he had with Erik and find a way to put it all behind him.

Being here, where it all happened…

It was a good place to start. 

* * *

He eventually found his way to his father’s study, and settled by the open window, taking in the familiar view of the gravel path that led from the road to the front of their property. The scenery was definitely better from the bedrooms, as they overlooked the back garden, or over the treetops for a glimpse of the sea. Yet he returned to this spot time and again over the course of the week, without ever making a conscious choice, as though a part of him needed to be _here_ , watching, _waiting_ for someone he knew wasn’t coming.

Then one morning, as he sipped his coffee in one of the chipped earthen mugs he saw it; a car winding its way up the path, pulling to a stop beside the house just below where Charles stood. It was not a car he recognized, that might have belonged to a neighbor, or one of their caretakers, and his heart throbbed painfully in his chest at the thought of who it might be.

He sucked in a breath when the driver’s door swung open, the mug almost slipping from his fingers when a familiar silhouette stepped into view.

Erik.

In Charles’ mind he looked the same as he did all those years ago, the first time he laid eyes on the grad student who had come to spend the summer at his mother’s invitation. He felt it then as he did now, the electric thrill and burgeoning excitement that made his breath quicken and his heart race; the curious pull towards a handsome stranger that held himself with such confidence and grace. 

He sprinted down the narrow staircase, startling Erik when he yanked open the front door and stepped out to greet him.

“Hello, Charles.”

“What are you doing here?” 

Erik smiled, looking more relaxed than Charles had ever seen him, his whole face lighting up with tenderness and unadulterated joy. He tried to think of another time when Erik had looked like this and found none. Where were the reservations he carried from that first summer together? Or the guilt and longing when they saw each other last?

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

The smile faded a little, as Erik took in the guarded expression on Charles’ face, and the way his arms were crossed over his chest, so he wouldn’t be tempted to run over and wrap himself around Erik and never let go.

“I spoke to your mother, and she told me you were here at the house. She said you were here alone, and didn’t mention anything about an engagement, or that you’d gotten married—”

“So you thought you’d come here and what?” Charles snapped. “Did you think I’d just fall into your arms and have sex with you again, and then send you home to your wife? I’m not interested in being your dirty little secret—”

“No, Charles.” Erik sighed, slowly edging closer until he could reach to take his hand. “That’s not why I’m here. I just—” He stopped abruptly, frustration coloring his face, trying to find the right words it seemed to explain his sudden reappearance in Charles’ life. “My divorce was finalized a while ago—”

“Divorce?” Charles deflated, swallowing the bile in his throat. “Was it…did your wife find out about us? God, Erik I’m so sorry; that’s not what I wanted for you.”

“No it wasn’t because of that,” Erik said, before he quickly added, “no that’s not quite true is it? But what happened made me realize I’ve been living a lie. That all these years I’ve been in love with _you_ and not Magda. I mean, I love her, very much and she’ll always be my family, but that’s not enough. Not for her and not for me.”

“But the children—”

“Are my children, regardless of the divorce,” Erik said, “and we’ve talked to them together, to help them understand. The twins are fifteen now, Charles…almost as old as you were when I met you. They’re smart and they love us both and we’ll get through this as a family.”

He was glad that Erik seemed so optimistic; that the children wouldn’t resent his choice to leave their mother for some stranger they’d never met, though Charles didn’t believe it would be quite that easy.

Shaking his head, Charles answered, “This isn’t what I wanted, Erik, for you to leave your family for me.”

Erik shrugged. “I didn’t, at least not the way you’re thinking. You said you were getting married, and if that was the case I had no intention of getting in the way. If you’d moved on, and put us behind you, I would have understood it completely. I had no idea that you _weren’t_ married until I called your mother a few days ago, and I only did that because I wanted to come here, and see this place again, and remember.”

He knew he was staring, mouth gaping in shock at the revelations of everything that had happened in Erik’s life – the _choices_ he’s made, without knowing Charles' circumstances and whether he would even get another chance. His heart ached for him, even as longing and hope surged through his mind in a dangerous and heady mix. “I don’t want you to regret this. Giving up your perfect family life for something we’ve never really talked about. Something that might not work out.”

“There are no guarantees in life, I know,” Erik said, his gaze intent as he reached to brush a stray hair from Charles’ forehead. “But the only regret I’ve ever had was not giving this – giving _us_ – a real chance. So I’m asking you now. Give us a chance. Please.”

Still Charles hesitated, unable to believe that any of this was real and actually happening, as he’d wanted it all those years ago. “And if I asked you to wait? Until I was ready?”

“Then I’d wait,” Erik replied, and this time he moved to cup Charles’ face tenderly between the palm of his hands. “For as long as you need. Forever, if that’s what it takes.”

“Forever is a long time,” Charles murmured, and leaned in to kiss him.


End file.
